witches brew and warlocks too
The wicked witch wilted on down the road
The good witch stood atop a giant toad
Nobody knew from which abode
Came the casks of the magic ale
The motherload
The wizards and enchantresses
Know how to get down
Tales of the soirees travel
From town to town
If one should happen to lose their right mind
There is always a security spell
To guard against the unsavory waving of wands
Fuck, Valdemort, what the hell?
Sleep it off old Gandalf, Merlin or Atu
Make room for breakfast of a hearty stew
Next time you’ll sip deep
No need to slam
You missed the whole set
When the minstrels began to jam
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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